


If We Were Gay

by krissmnasi



Category: Venom (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexual Eddie Brock, Child Neglect, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Toxic Masculinity, M/M, Pansexual Flash Thompson, Sibling Bonding, Trans Eddie Brock, Trans Male Character, carl brock is an asshole, except he doesn't know the word bisexual and he doesn't know what to do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-09-27 20:17:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20413699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krissmnasi/pseuds/krissmnasi
Summary: Two high school teens endure the struggles of peer scrutiny, the approval of their fathers, and what the church has to say about them. Not to mention, they've been fighting themselves over the situation for a long time.But when love does blossom, they have to keep hand-holding and affection behind closed doors, lest Flash loses the fearful respect of others and Eddie loses the last bond he has to his father.Eddie teaches Flash he can be more than just a 'dumb jock' and Flash teaches Eddie that loving him doesn't have to mean getting beaten up all of the time.Sibling bonding, skipping classes like cool kids do, and learning the harsh realities of getting an education.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Before you ask, the title is absolutely from one of NinjaSexParty's songs "If We Were Gay" in their first album "NSFW" because I'm very into it.
> 
> How they were like in high school is heavily based off of comics ( except for what Cates had to say on Eddie ). However, there's a few differences, like Eddie being into getting buff well before the situation with Spiderman happened. 
> 
> It's somewhat modern and also not modern; there's the technological advancements but bullying is centred around the whole jocks vs nerds cliche seen so much in the 80's movies.
> 
> This first chapter is incredibly short because I'm just dipping my toes in the water but I'm planning out plot and other things for future chapters that are going to be a bit more chonkier!

There’s a lot of things that Eddie wonders. What does he want to be when he grows up? Will he ever earn the love of his father? Was Flash that great at acting? 

The answers are the following: a journalist, probably not, and yes. A tight grip held Eddie by the collar of his shirt and, though he wasn’t too tall, he was still tall enough that Flash didn’t even bother with attempting to lift him up. With a strong shove into the bathroom, Eddie was pinned against a wall in one of the stalls.

Flash yelled something he wasn’t paying attention to, a growl for good measure, and everybody else hurried to class as the bell rang on time. Letting out a sigh, he let go of Eddie, now leaning against the locked stall door with nobody else in the bathroom. Alone at last.

“It’s looking a lot more believable now,” giggles Eddie, a wide beaming smile with eyes closed and hands slowly reaching up to wrap around Flash’s neck. “I thought we scheduled to skip for tomorrow, not today?”

“I’ve got Mr. Hendricks for fourth period. Not gonna deal with that today,” Flash answers, hands now coming to rest at Eddie’s waist. He steps forward to lean his head on Eddie’s chest, comfortable to skip a lesson like this.

“Okay, fair enough.” Eddie’s arms now shift a bit more comfortably to accommodate Flash, his chin resting on the other’s shoulder, contentedly humming. “Didja do your homework at least?”

Suddenly, Flash’s body tensed up, eyes wide. It’d be comically appropriate for him to sweat; he’s got many reasons to. School bully, not only dating a nerd but also a _ boy _ ? But, instead, he’s sweating because he knows his dad would _ kill _him if he hadn’t turned in anything for the whole term.

“So is that a no?” There’s a bubble of laughter from the to-be journalist.

\---

The lid of the toilet was kept down, Eddie sitting on it, Flash sitting on his lap. An open notebook laid open, strong arms keeping Flash close, Eddie looking over to check every so often if what he was writing was correct. Maybe he’d stop Flash every so often to correct one thing or another but he let Flash do all the thinking.

“What’s that worth?” Flash held up his rough essay, a few scribbled out words and other such things that were the trademark seals of a dumb jock who was genuinely asking for help. Eddie squinted a bit- the handwriting could do some work but he’d point that out later- and read it over once.

Then twice.

And just once more for good measure.

“At best? Probably a C.” It’s accompanied by a hand gesture, the universal gesture for _ so-so _, but Flash doesn’t seem discouraged. In fact, he seems even more encouraged than he’d realised. “It’s okay, though. Good for a rough draft.”

Eddie shrugs, Flash leaning back a bit as he reads it too. He’s not sure how to fix it but he knows, somehow, he’s getting better at writing these things. Silently, he leans over once more to make corrections on the flimsy notebook, crossing out more things and underlining others to emphasise one point or another.

It’s difficult to describe the fluttery butterfly feeling in Eddie’s stomach as he watches; there’s a distinct and profound feeling of pride, of watching Flash improve. It goes without saying that Eddie feels the deep and warm love for the football player, one which was reciprocated.

And there’s a third feeling he doesn’t quite understand that makes the mood feel sour in some sort of way. It’s at the pit of his stomach, something that churns, but he pushes past it. He makes a mental note to sit in the church confessional on Sunday when he has time; he has a question to ask.

“Lets bounce,” Flash says, hopping off of Eddie’s lap and stuffing things haphazardly back into his bag before meeting Eddie’s gaze and folding the paper back out flatly, pulling out a textbook and leaving it in there to avoid it crumpling.

Though, Eddie doesn’t get up. He’s waiting, expectantly, and Flash gives him a kiss on the nose before pulling his arm back and punching Eddie hard enough that his nose breaks a slight bit. Not enough to require emergency aid but just enough that it’s bleeding.

At first, the pain is nothing. It’s numb and doesn’t feel like anything at all. Then, give or take a few seconds, it buzzes intensely. Flash looks apologetic, almost broken, but it’s how they make sure nobody stays on their trail. 

Before leaving, Flash gives another kiss, whispering an apology. He exits, Eddie pulling out tissues from the roll to self medicate. With a smile, Eddie pulls his bag over his shoulder and waits a minute before leaving the bathroom too, keeping a distance from Flash.


	2. Stubborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary picks Eddie up from school and Flash sneaks out into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOOD LORD we got that sibling content.
> 
> Not enough fics write with Mary in them and I just needed that good sibling bonding in an abusive household content. But also a fair warning for anxiety surrounding a neglectful family member, namely Carl. Also, dog parks and shopping trips and Eddie being soft about Flash.
> 
> For reference, Flash is 16, Eddie is 17, and Mary is 20.

Sitting out on the steps by the road feels a lot less scary now. When he was younger, Mary used to tell him stories about kids who were alone that got snatched away. Dad got mad at him for not being out on time but he was just a small kid afraid of not being able to defend himself. It was kind of partially the reason he wanted to take up weightlifting. It’s also why, when Mary got her driver’s license, she was appointed the task of picking him up.

Eddie didn’t spend much of his waiting time idly staring into the road, as some kids did. He didn’t use his phone either because he couldn’t afford to buy a new charger, since he wasn’t supposed to have it and he’d sneaked it out from under the table where it was taped to. Instead, he busied himself with reading. He wasn’t a book nerd per se but he liked to read when he had the time.

It was a bit out of place, really; someone who regularly worked out and didn’t exactly look like a nerd reading a book? Taking a course in english literature? Being interested in at least a few bits and bobs of computer science? Eddie doesn’t exactly fit anywhere. Flash liked to classify him as a nerd just to emphasise his fake distaste in Eddie but the reality was that he didn’t have a group of friends or anything.

Well, there was Mary, of course.

Mary, who was driving up in her silver- Eddie called it white while she argued it was specifically silver- Mercedes, something she worked hard to buy at a used car sale. There was a dent under one of the door handles from Eddie kicking it to test its strength, a scratch on the windshield from the branch of a tree Mary almost hit, and of course a crack on one of the lights at the back. It’s an artefact from the previous owner but she didn’t exactly have the cash to fix it, nor the care. It was fine as is.

The window rolled down as Eddie stuffed his book back in his bag- he didn’t have to look up to know it was her; he could hear the distinct sound of the engine from where he was sitting- and Mary yelled out to grab his attention. “Come on, fucker, we’re going to the mall!”

It’s said fondly with a slight aggression; Mary was rather notorious for that when she was his age. Eddie opened the back door, shoved his bag into the foot space, and laid down on the seats. There was, of course, a tissue bundled up in his nose and he wanted to keep as much of that blood inside of him as possible. “Can we buy me a new set of pens? I’m running out of ink.”

She shrugs back but he can’t tell, followed by an _ eh _ , making a turn and switching the radio to something a bit more upbeat and interesting. Even without looking out the window, Eddie can feel the movement of the car, can feel where they go and when they’re stuck at a red light. Mary finds it the right time to pull her wallet from her pocket and throw it over her shoulder where it hits Eddie’s chest, giving him a moment to let out an _ oof _. “Check my wallet. Maybe we can.”

He doesn’t sit up just yet. When the car continues onwards, he reaches over to grab it. The wallet is rather small, something made of faux black leather, and there’s a piece of paper taped on with cellophane clearly labelled ‘Mary’ with stars and other small decorations in metallic Sharpie ink. The tape has worn down with time, a few scratches here and there, but the name stays for the most part- intact. 

Opening it without taking in the fact that he’s laying on his back is a mistake that Eddie soon regrets. Some bills fall out but, unfortunately, a few coins fall out too only because Mary refuses to buy an overpriced coin purse when she can just stick them in her wallet. One falls perfectly over his right eye and he takes a moment to process it before gathering everything that has fallen and placing them back in, slowly sitting up as he does so.

At first, it’s a bit awkward and uncomfortable to position himself in the car seat, but he manages to whilst still sitting with both legs stretched out, counting each individual bill and taking a moment to do the math, subtracting the few bills divided by an old receipt that he knew were clearly for emergency purposes. “We’ve got, like, a good three hundred in here.”

Mary was a hard worker. She’s as cooperative as she is compassionate and never ceased to amaze Eddie with how fucked over good people can be sometimes. There are days he wonders if she’s really related to him but she assures him that they aren’t and then they fight and _ then _it’s clear they are. Because the Brocks are all stubborn people but in vastly different ways. 

Their mother was a stubborn lover; she was blinded by her love to Carl and it made him so gentle once. Eddie wasn’t around to see her but, when Mary did, she was around to see a kind woman who never gave up. Carl was a stubborn lover but, rather than letting go, he refused to offer it when it wasn’t beneficial to him. He lost that spark that let him give it and it changed him ever since.

Mary was a stubborn fighter. She never lost, always won. And when she didn’t, she used it to her advantage, used it to learn from, used it as a weapon. She’s fought her way to getting promotions, went from being a retail employee to a vice manager. She fought to keep Carl from ever laying a finger on Eddie, fought and worked hard to get the car she could afford, and fought to get herself to where she is now. 

Eddie? He’s a stubborn believer in things. He believes people can change, and it’s hard not to shake it off. He believes in God, and in getting good grades. He believes in love, and fights almost just as much as Mary every day to be who he is. He believes in his identity, he believes in individuality. The only one he doesn’t believe in is himself.

It’s hard to do that.

“Okay, so. Dad wants us to get groceries so that’s like. . . fifty bucks off. And I’m buying snacks so. . . ten more bucks. You can get anything that’s ten bucks.” She parks somewhere, hand extending to take her wallet back and stuffing it in her pocket. Opening her door, Eddie has little time to stop leaning before he nearly falls out his own door, Mary having pulled it open to get things done quicker. She catches him by the shoulders, pushing him back up, and Eddie gathers his bearings before stepping out the car shortly after. He huffed, Mary sticking out her tongue, and they’re walking together to the two sliding doors. Then she stops, turning around, and locks her car. It beeps and its lights signal that it’s locked for good.

For a moment, it’s just them and the airconditioning and the silence. But then Eddie starts gesturing to his nose, a bunched up piece of tissue stuffed in it. She gives a few glances over but, shoving a bottle of dishwasher soap in, she doesn’t seem to care. Eddie’s hands apply more emphasis, a little bit of urgency, and she rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay, what? I get it, your boyfriend punched you, what else is new?”

The only other person who knows about him and Flash is Mary and Eddie would trust her with her life, no matter how many times they’re at each other’s throats. They really only have each other to look out for, especially with their family situation the way that it is. “You knew?”

“You told me two weeks ago that the black eye was also on purpose. It’s either Flash or you wouldn’t have made a big deal about it.” Now she’s reading the label of a milk carton, putting it back in the fridge and moving it aside to grab the one at the back. Placing it in the cart, she moves on, Eddie following closely behind. “Connect the dots, what do you get?”

“Oh.”

The rest of the shopping task was menial at best. They made witty and small banter every so often but it’d be more fun to get to something more exciting. On their way to get everything checked out- Mary bought this week’s groceries and Eddie bought a new set of pastel-coloured pens for note-taking- Mary slapped in a bag of dog treats. She didn’t have to say anything for Eddie to understand where they were headed to next.

By the time they got all the groceries in her car, Eddie spotted someone just as he was about to get in. Flash looked across from the parking lot, smiled, and walked away. Mary shoved Eddie in the car with a laugh and got to driving them out, Eddie blushing and smiling at the small interaction. It wasn’t much but every little bit counted for them. 

“Come on, heart eyes, we’re going to the dog park.”

\---

When they were younger, Mary used to take Eddie out to the dog park to play around with a few of them. There was little to no objection from Carl, given that he didn’t really care, so they made it somewhat of a tradition to go there every week after groceries. Or, sometimes, after a while of feeling down. A thing so small such as petting a dog could do wonders on a mood but, with someone like their father in the house, neither of the kids thought it’d be fair on the dog to have one. 

Once, when Eddie and Flash were hiding under Eddie’s covers at night- Flash had been hurt pretty bad and Eddie offered shelter until the daylight- they talked about getting a dog when they finally got to move in together. At first, it felt like light and fun little banter; the idea of having a dog was just a sweet little daydream. But more conversations led to it being a possibility and, what the hell, who didn’t like dogs?

“Willy! You’re looking good!” A large rottweiler came running down the hill once Eddie got himself seated on a bench, eyeing the park. Most of these dogs have owners but there were a few ‘dog park dog’ that were regular residents. Nobody took him in because anybody that tried found him out and about, back in the park, where he will later just be left alone. Everyone calls the dog a different name- Mary, personally, thought that Willy could do better being called Gerald- but Eddie liked to call him Willy. 

“Who’s a good boy!” Mary waved one of the treats out from the small sealable bag it came in, Willy- or Gerald, depending on who you asked- standing on his hind legs to receive the gift. He was rewarded, Mary throwing it close enough for him to catch it with his mouth, scarfing down the treat and receiving pats from both the Brock siblings. The dog park was some sort of peaceful sanctuary, someplace that they both found peace in, despite Eddie now being tread on by a very large golden retriever most referred to as Clementine; it was only because somebody had spent the money on buying her a metal collar with the name and inscribing the words “she belongs to the dog park” behind the name tag.

A good while of dog-patting and belly-rubbing later- conversing with local dog owners and Mary laying in the grass for a solid ten minutes because she “wondered what dogs felt like”- her phone buzzed. It’s easy to lose track of time when offered such an opportunity. Upon seeing the text, she taps back a response and pockets her phone, dragging Eddie by the collar of his jacket back to the car. At this point, his bloody nose has healed up- he’ll need to make sure it’s in the right place- and the tissue has long since been discarded; it’s in his jacket pocket right now but he’ll throw it in a proper bin when he comes by one.

“Soon as we get home, we gotta supersonic all the shit into the right place,” Mary says, starting the car and driving off towards home. It’s with a frightening urgency that Eddie immediately understands, her tone code switching from happy-go-lucky to something stern. She’s scared; their father will be home soon. “Can you handle the kitchen stuff? I can do all the other stuff.”

Eddie _ mhm _ s back, hands now stiff over his lap as he registers how risky it is to cut it so close. But Eddie doesn’t complain- he never complains about his father. Because Flash, he has it worse. Flash goes to school with black eyes and broken noses and busted lips. He goes to school with a world of pain on his shoulders. But Eddie? His father yells, his father doesn’t care, but his father hasn’t laid a hand on him. And that means his father isn’t _ bad _ right? It can’t. Because Flash has it worse but Eddie doesn’t.

When she opens the trunk, it’s almost so fast that she doesn’t notice Eddie swooping his head out of the way to avoid getting hit by it. And he does, on the forehead, when the dingy hinges of the trunk bob up and down a bit with the force. It stings but he’s rushing to get plastic bags of food into the house so that they don’t face the scorn of their father. He doesn’t want that, so he’s putting things in the fridge and in cabinets and tidying the counters. He helps Mary when he’s done and she isn’t because he doesn’t want to get her in trouble. _ She _ doesn’t want to get _ him _in trouble either.

And, by luck- or skills developed over time of rushing things into tidiness- they have a minute or two to spare before the jingling of keys signify the return of Carl Brock into a gloomy home. The curtains are drawn closed the way he likes them, everything is neat and looks like it’s been left untouched, and the only thing he says- if you could classify it as that- is a grunt of general displeasure for the two children that are legally his own.

They consider it a job well done. He’s not yelling, instead getting comfortable and sitting in his one chair in front of the TV, the teens off to their rooms to do whatever it is teens do. Mary goes off to check out house prices and Eddie is doing his homework like responsible students do, like most nerds do. He does his history first, then chemistry, and he’s already done his english since it wasn’t that hard. When he has nothing to do, he studies textbooks and makes notes. As much money as the Brock family has, Eddie doesn’t want to be conforming to whatever his father’s wishes are concerning his education are. He wants to make that decision on his own and, while it definitely was influenced by Carl, he wants to have some sort of control over it. That’s why he _ needs _this scholarship.

There’s a knock on the door. It’s a distinct one-two knock that stutters a bit in its rhythm. No doubt that it’s Mary, calling him down for dinner, something she’s in charge of every night.

\---

Flash isn’t exactly the builder-type. He doesn’t know how things go one way, turn into another. All he knows is that turning a screw to the left unscrews it and turning it to the right screws it. His door has seen better days but he’s successfully screwed his door knob back on. He tests it out for a quick second and it works, him locking it before opening the window and climbing out. Falling from the second floor is a little higher than most would say but there’s just enough shrubbery below to cushion the most of his fall with a few cuts and scrapes to add to it. But he takes a moment to sit there, groaning, because he’s pretty sure a sharp enough twig just got him under his shirt.

When he stands up, he brushes everything off hastily, wincing when he pulls off a leaf that sits atop the open wound on his cheek. He needs to get that fixed but he can do that later. Right now, he’s shuffling himself inside the shadows. It’s not that effective, considering the bright colour on his jock jacket, but he knows it’s late enough that nobody is watching or, if they were, they didn’t care. 

Eddie’s house wasn’t too hard to spot. It was nice and neat on the outside with no personality. All it said was that Eddie’s family is pretty well off; Carl Brock was as smart of a businessman as he was a shitty father. The exterior was devoid of any decorations or indication that someone was happy inside and Flash knew well that it was the truth. His own house at least had a garden gnome with a cracked piece and a few almost-okay flowers that his mother regularly watered. Eddie didn’t have that. The only thing with a personality you could see outside were the dead bushes and Eddie’s window with a small cut out ghost from halloween two years ago. He never bothered to take it down because he said it looked “kind of cool” in comparison to the rest of his room.

That was a lie; it was only because Flash made it for him two years ago. But it’s still up there.

Most romance cliches at getting one’s attention like this either involved breaking glass or playing loud music. Eddie’s father would kill him _ and _Eddie if his window was smashed open by a rock and playing loud music would alert others which meant his father would find out and, well, Flash doesn’t exactly want that. He just wants to see Eddie.

But, if he threw something weak enough, it could just tap the glass. It’d make a sound, something a bit alarming, so he snapped off a twig from the shrubbery and threw it upwards. It makes a soft yet sharp tapping sound before it falls back down and hits him directly in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know American car models!!! I live in Malaysia the only damn thing I know are Myvis and my dad's Mercedes!!!!!!
> 
> Also I take IB so a lot of their academics-stuff is going to be based off of that course. Not super important but I thought that you might want to know.


End file.
